


Why The Caged Bird Sings

by heavnofhell



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-08-14 04:28:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7998622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heavnofhell/pseuds/heavnofhell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Post S5) The Cage spares no one. Lucifer does what he can to keep Sam safe - to protect him from Michael, and from the torment of their prison. But sometimes, the archangel needs a little help, too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why The Caged Bird Sings

Those intoxicating, vibrant cerulean eyes were staring straight ahead, _lackluster_ and  _unresponsive_. There were feathers, thick and black and bloody, strewn all about their little corner of The Cage; and,  _Heaven help him_ , Sam itched desperately to gather up  _each and every one_. They were beautiful and precious to him - they were the links making up the armour that kept him safe - the threads in the blanket that shielded him from the burning touch of Hell Fire. And now they were _broken_ , scattered upon the ground like the falling seeds of a dandelion, and it filled Sam with a  _deep despair_.

He crawled slowly forward, dragging his own battered body toward that of the disturbingly still form of the archangel. His heart was filled with a  _dread_ , and there was a war going on within him. The irrefutable need to reach his other half gave him the _impossible strength_  to move forward; while the  _sheer terror_  of what he might find when he reached his side, kept his movements slow and unsteady. From here, Lucifer looked like the Gothic image of a porcelain doll - fractured and bloody, with  _haunting_ , vacant eyes.

But here, in this  _unforgiving_  and  _unholy_ perdition that had become  _his_ , as much as it was Lucifer’s, the  _mercy_ of death did not exist. The Light Bringer lived, of course - though he looked _anything_  but alive. In all their years down here, Sam had yet to see his other half so wholly  _defeated_ , and he could not resist taking the blame unto himself. Something brushed his hand as the hunter crawled onward, drawing his pained eyes down, his wheezing breath catching in his throat as he stared at the discarded feather, glistening with the thick coating of crimson. With a quiet,  _uncontrollable_  sob, he moved to grip it in his hand, looking up and moving toward Lucifer with renewed purpose.

Sam gathered as many of the velvety and flawless pieces of the archangel as he could, each one sending the blades of guilt and remorse deeper into his heart. If he had _just_  remained quiet… if he had simply  _taken the beating_ , if he had not cried out the name that had become his  _unending prayer_  in his damnation, then Lucifer would not be as he was now - beaten and tossed aside, crushed by the hands of his  _own_ brother.

The hunter hadn’t even thought it possible, escaping the torment of The Cage, as the archangel had done. Lucifer had been fettered to one of the ever-shifting walls, his custom-tailored damnation administering the punishment his own prideful anger had earned him. Michael had taken his absence as an opportunity to exact his own justice, and Sam, fresh from his own disciplining at the invisible hands of Hell, had become  _desperate_  for an escape. The younger archangel’s name had fallen from his lips in a scream of agony, regret following immediately behind.

He had felt the tremor beneath his feat, and had heard the undefinable celestial voice, loud and furious, crying out Michael’s name in a language humans should never be allowed to hear. With unfathomable strength and heart-wrenching disregard for his own pain, Lucifer had torn himself free of his bonds, ripping through flesh and bone and sinew, shredding his own wings in a blind fury. The first blow had hit the stunned Michael with bone-shattering power, and the fight between them erupted like an  _explosion_ , flashes of Grace forcing Sam to turn away, covering his head with his arms and pulling in on himself.

When the battle’s chaos had finally subsided, the human dared to look up, his eyes widening and his mouth falling open in horror. Michael held the limp body of his younger brother by the throat, his own form shaking from the effort. There was a sickening cracking sound Sam could not quite place, and Lucifer’s body was thrown carelessly to the ground. Michael stumbled slightly, and the human felt a small burst of  _pride_ , knowing that Lucifer, even in his tortured state, had managed to inflict _real damage_ unto his brother.

“You  _cannot_ save him,  _ **Morning Star**_.” Michael’s deep, ethereal voice drifted over the motionless body, his ancient words  _filled_  with loathing. “You are naught without your honeyed voice, vile Tempter. He will  _never_ believe in you. He will _never_ want you.” The slow dimming of his Grace had been Lucifer’s only reaction to the beating and the scathing words, though they had drawn a  _far more_  emotional response from Sam, prudence forgotten, as the angry human screamed at the fearsome archangel, commanding him to leave the younger immortal alone. 

Michael’s eyes had flickered to Sam’s pathetic display for a fraction of a second, before he had turned to leave, off to sulk in a corner and lick his wounds. Sam couldn’t be sure of what divine wrath Lucifer had been dealt, but he  _did_ know that it was bad - the worst he had seen, yet; and it absolutely _terrified him_. 

With a fistful of feathers, and a heart full of hope, Sam finally made it to the Morning Star’s side. 

“Lucifer?” His quiet voice cracked, the madness of his torment seeping into the unsteady tone.  _Nothing_. No response. Not even the slightest tremble from his other half to tell the human that he would be okay. Sam shook his head desperately, parting his lips to try again. 

“Lucifer, _please_!” He _needed_ to hear that low and soothing voice… the only thing that could keep him tethered to some semblance of sanity, when all of this agony became too much. “Lucifer, hey -  _look_ …” He pushed himself up, groaning from the effort. Sam made it to his knees, leaning forward and gripping the archangel’s outstretched hand. With shaky movements, he pushed the small collection of lost feathers into the unresponsive hand, closing Lucifer’s fingers around the soft bundle. “I got them back for you.” Sam’s voice was a whisper, and he bowed his head low, shoulders shaking as he gave into the frustration. 

“He’s  _wrong_.” Sam sucked in a shuddering breath, looking back up and reaching out hesitantly, his warm fingertips tracing lightly against Lucifer’s cheek. “I believe in you. You’re the only thing I  _ **do**_  believe in.” The shifting beneath his fingers,  _however subtle_ , was enough to brighten Sam’s gaze, his lips turning up into a subdued display of his unbridled joy and relief. “ _Lucifer_?” 

The archangel’s eyes blinked slowly closed, opening again to reveal a glimmer of that beautiful light that lived within him. Wearily, he turned his blue gaze up to his other half, reaching up and grasping at the hand upon his cheek. He closed his eyes for another, short moment, taking a deep, painful breath, before releasing his grip, turning over onto his stomach, and using his free hand to push his heavy body up from the ground. Once upright, he moved into a seated position, parting his legs and making room for the human to lean against him - an intimate, yet  _chaste_ embrace that had become habitual for them in the aftermath of their more excruciating moments. 

Sam paused only a moment, staring up into the sapphire eyes with concern, before crawling slowly forward and nestling himself between Lucifer’s legs, his back pressing into the archangel’s torso. Lucifer immediately wrapped his arms around the human, the fallen feathers clutched loosely in his hand. After a moment, the quiet voice broke through the silence - but the sound was  _all wrong_. Lucifer was trying to sing, but his usually smooth and lulling melody was broken and hoarse. With a surge of anger, Sam realized what Michael’s words had meant. 

The eldest archangel had heard Lucifer’s glorious voice drifting through The Cage on _numerous_ occasions, soothing away the fears and pain of his other half, and chasing back the burning flames with the  _undiluted purity_. Michael had heard it, and he had become  _enraged_. They did not deserve comfort - especially not the monkey who had put them here. And so, he had taken it away, damaging Lucifer’s voice in an attempt to  _silence him_. Sam felt his heart breaking all over again, unsure as to whether or not the The Angel of Music would  _ever_  be able to create such a breathtaking melody again. But  _nothing_ died here… and wounds did not last: healing, only to be inflicted upon the victims, over and over again. 

With tears brimming in his eyes, Sam twisted in Lucifer’s arms, reaching up and placing his fingers wordlessly over the archangel’s lips, fighting against the tightness in his throat before speaking. 

“Shhh… don’t, Lucifer.” 

“Sam…” The broken voice shook with pain, but, _somehow_ , the weakened angel managed a small smile, attempting to put a lightness behind his tone. “I thought you _liked_ my singing.” The tears that broke free and cascaded down the human’s cheeks served as another blow to Lucifer’s stricken body, and he felt his own eyes sting with the burning sorrow of having this  _one comfort_  taken from him - taken from _Sam_. 

“I’m sorry, kiddo.” The hushed whisper was followed by a stuttering gasp, the archangel on the verge of  _sobbing_  as he finally allowed himself to acknowledge the damage he had suffered. 

Quickly, with more strength than he knew he had left, Sam turned his body fully in Lucifer’s hold, reaching out and gripping the archangel by the shoulders, pulling him gently toward his chest. Lucifer allowed the man to guide him, pulling his legs back and tucking them beneath himself, leaning heavily into the warmth of his other half. He kept his arms wrapped tightly around Sam’s body, burying his face into the human’s shoulder. 

“Hey - it’s okay, Luce. It’s gonna be fine.” Sam ran his hand through the archangel’s hair, trailing down to rub his back in a soothing motion. It was a strange reverse of their usual position, but it didn’t feel _wrong_. In fact, comforting Lucifer was a comfort in itself - calming the human, and filling him with a new sense of  _purpose_. Quietly, tentatively, Sam began to  _sing_ , his voice hardly audible at first, but enough that it drew Lucifer’s curious gaze. Sam looked down nervously, afraid that he might,  _somehow_ , be offending the beautiful angel, daring to sing to a creature _so pure_. 

Instead, Lucifer’s eyes were quickly filling with  _unadulterated love_ , pride shining in his expression as he listened to the human fill the space with  _music_. It was all the encouragement Sam needed. His voice grew steadily louder, and he pulled Lucifer closer, looking down with a fond smile when the archangel settled heavily against his body, cold blue eyes sliding closed as he lost himself to the moment. Michael _hadn’t_ won. They were two halves of a whole, and, try as he might, he would _never_ be able to win - not while they had each other. The Morning Star would have his voice, even if Sam had to be the one to give it to him. 


End file.
